Victors
by clumsyone
Summary: Next to all of our Hunger Games fanfictions go to the entire time a tribute is in the arena. But what about a tributes' last few hours? Minutes? Seconds. A drabble-series filled with a tributes' last moments to becoming a victor. Rated 'T' because it's The Hunger Games. R&R?
1. Chapter 1 - The First

_(A/N): Heyo, there! It's JustAPiece with my first ever fanfic. Sooo, like said, it's my first and friendly-critical reviews would help me with any future Fanfics.:) Thank you for clicking open, and I hope you enjoy! (Yeah, I know. It'll be short, but it's still just the first chapter.)_

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**Victors.**

**Summary: **Next to all of our Hunger Games fanfictions go to the entire time a tribute is in the arena. But what about a tributes' last few hours? Minutes? Seconds. A drabble-series filled with a tributes' last moments to becoming a victor.

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**Chapter One.  
The First Hunger Games.  
Ivory Dustins **_(District Two: 17.)_

My heart races as I walk around the swamp of the arena this late. The moss beneath my feet making a quiet squishing noise with every step. A quiet croak of a frog or a chirp of a cricket is audible every half of a minute, but not another squishing sound of moss.

Weaving myself around a blockade of trees, my feet freeze. He doesn't see me yet. No. He's crouched down by the creek, filling a metallic grey flask with water. A quiet bubbling is audible and I'm guessing that's the only thing he'll be doing for a minute.

But doesn't it take a little while for a flask of uncleaned water to filter with iodine? That's what I'll do. He doesn't have much - if only three - throwing knives with him. My fellow district partner is a pro with knives, yet he only has three. _Three. _If I could dodge those three and get a clean kill with my sword...

That's how I'll victor.

I smirk to myself before moving tighter into the tree I'm in. Standing behind it, I wait for the quiet bubbling to stop. After, there's a silence. A very uncomfortable, intimidating, suspenseful silence while a thought rings through my ears.

_What if he doesn't miss?_

The thought sends a stomach churning displeasure up my spine, making the hair on the back of my neck stand. Wait, what? My eyes widen and I duck just as a knife impales the tree behind me.

Partly panicking, partly using instinct, I move out of the way and draw my sword as quickly as I can. Peering around me, there's nothing but the eerie green color and nothing but the terrifyingly silent swamp.

He's a smart boy.

In between my thought, a knife sinks into my shoulder. I wail out before shutting my mouth as a demented laugh fills my ears. "What are you doing Ivory?" he asks from somewhere I can't see.

My breathing is quick as I peer around where I stand. That laugh sounded nothing like the Career I knew only a few days ago. That sounds like something a insane person from District 6 would say. But without the morphling.

"You know you can't hide forever," he says quietly but still audibly. I know he's trying to sneak up on me. I know it. Standing still, I accept my fate. I can't see him. I can't hear him. I'll die. He'll kill me and he'll go home insane but happy.

_Lucky._

"Kill me."

I spin around in time to sink my sword in his stomach. His eyes go wide with the sudden impact and he drops the knife he had raised to plunge into my skull. It hits the ground beside of his foot and I don't dare release the handle of my sword as he sinks to his knees and then on his back.

A thought runs through my mind as trumpets sound throughout the arena and I sink to my knees beside of the dead body of Emett.

_I, Ivory Dustins, won the first ever Hunger Games._


	2. Chapter 2 - Nets Darts (Second)

_(A/N): Hey there again! Wow. I got a lot of good response from the last chapter. That means a lot, you guys.(: So, I updated. Oh! And if you have any ideas for an arena, Review me them? I should just go stalk a syot, shouldn't I? xD – Thanks again! Go read.(:_

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**Victors.**

**Chapter Two.**

**The Second Hunger Games.  
Darien Ladd. **_(District 7: 15.)_

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"Congratulations to our final two tributes!" Claudius's voice booms through the the arena. The cold, brisk, mountaneous arena. Though I don't know if anyone has died from the cold of it all.

_The final two? _My mind buzzes with who could possibly be the last tribute. All I've been doing for the past few days is watching the sky or below my tree, waiting for my next meal or victim to come walking by, only to be scooped up in the net I'd learn to make in the training sessions. But while watching the sky, I realized that there's only one person that I have yet to see.

_Raegan Willis._

A large frown finds its way onto my face as I think of him. He's from District 4 and I'm from District 7. From the training session, he'd gotten a ten while I got a measley seven. He's strong, too. How the heck do I beat a born killer?

A sharp snap below me panicks me as I flick my eyes down to the ground. My net whips up sharply, incasing a groosling tightly in its hold. I smile and then pull up the net. I blow a nightlock poisoned dart into it and the groosling stops flailing around, so I know it's dead.

That's when a loud voice in my head rings, "_Idiot! Use that to win this thing!_"

My ears perk up and a wide smile finds my features as I pull the groosling out of the net and then fix my net once again. I look up at the sky that's just beginning to darken and then lower the net. Broken leaves break, making me wince at how suddenly loud they seem. Once the leaves blow over it, I reload my blowgun with the darts and wait patiently.

Seconds tick by, followed by minutes, followed by hours until a form becomes visible. Large and with a menacing smirk on his lips, his dark hair forming a shadow over his face in the sunset of this arena, Raegan walks around the area. His feet just miss the net and I wince at that.

He can't see me, but somehow, someway, he senses my presence and then his smirk widens. "Here, Darien," he says quietly, drawing his needled club. I shudder at how he has most likely killed his past victims; beating them to death with a heavy needled _stick_.

My limbs tremor as he begins walking around the clearing I'm in. How the heck does he know I'm here? _How_?

His eyes flick up suddenly and I freeze. "There you are," he states, his smirk widening. I need to get him in the net, though, so...?

"Here I am," I say, my voice sounding almost bored. Nice. "And what are you going to do?"

He laughs a laugh that makes me shudder. "You'll see what I'm going to–" He steps forward quickly, but the net gets into action and scoops him up. "What?!"

My fingers tremble to blowgun and I huff a shaky breath before blowing through it. Three of the darts exit. One hits his cheek, another hits his jaw, and the next finds its target on his neck.

His eyes go wide and he freezes. In an instant, a cannon sounds and victory trumpets blare through the arena, echoing off of the mountains around me.

"I present to you, this year's victor! Darien Ladd!" calls Claudius as the trumpets end a large hovercraft comes into view. I'm too frozen to move, yet I do manage to reach out a hand and touch the ladder.

_I'm going home._


End file.
